


We And Our Dreams (And Coffee)

by captainhurricane



Category: Berserk
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:51:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the obligatory coffeeshop/modern-world!AU that this fandom doesn't seem to have. Half-crack, half-serious. There is Griffith the obnoxious bastard in the King's Coffee downtown, Guts the great dumb oaf who is actually smarter than he looks, Casca the fierce athlete secretly a little bit in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We And Our Dreams (And Coffee)

_-"all of us have secrets, that's for sure_

_-but only few of us have secrets deadlier than any weapon-"_  
  


\--

 

There is a café at 47 Cross Road, tucked in between a record store and a library, the university only five blocks away and the High Park just behind it. There is nothing particularly remarkable about the café, from the outside it looks like all the others; nice and cozy, but people walk past it like it wasn't even there if not in the immediate need of caffeine. It opens on a ordinary spring-morning without a fanfare, the words King's Dream scrawled on its window and a few chairs tucked outside. The first customers are curious passerbys, then the students from the university in the middle of their spring exams and then families and everyone going in like pulled by an invisible force. Despite becoming the talk of the town, it's never crowded.

Aside from the three workers usually present (there is Sonia, blond and quirky, with knowing blue eyes and Charlotte with her brown curls styled like a princess of old times and Irvine, tall and utterly silent); there is a young man behind the counter at most times, dressed like any other young person of the current time but with a face only found in dreams and head full of hair that would make any young lady envious. His name is Griffith and as far as the admirers he quickly gathers are concerned, he is not a human.

"Where are you from?" It's not the first time he's asked that. Griffith answers like he always does; with a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes and saying: "That'll be four dollars." No personal information given, nothing but charmed teenagers and mothers and few suspicious boyfriends thinking the angelic barista had drugged their girlfriends' coffees. Yet it is the truth that this Griffith makes coffee of all kinds to many kinds of people, back straight like he was a king of his own piece of the world. His colleagues are there from time to time especially on days when the university closes and the café fills with tired students in the middle of their finals. 

* 

 

"It's Sonia," Sonia says, correcting a half-drunk customer's prononciation. The man is a foreigner but Sonia pays no heed, makes his coffee and smiles like an angel from heaven (his words, not hers) and sends him off before he knows what happens. Charlotte is cleaning a table and humming to herself. Griffith is nowhere to be seen. The bell above the exit rings. 

"Welcome!" Sonia chirps. She raises her eyebrows. The man stepping inside is tall; not tall like Irvine who is built like a willow or an elven bow; but this person is tall and imposing like someone more beast than human. He is with two young women, they step side by side, obviously friends. Sonia likes them immediately, always the type to fall for the people who are a little off. 

The beast-man comes to the counter and frowns, looming over Sonia. Close-by it's easy to see some oddities about his looks but gracefully Sonia avoids such topic.

"What'll be?" She glances from the beast-man to his companions. The other woman seems more interested in answering a call; brushing a lock of blond hair from her face, the other one pats the beast-man on the arm and then smiles at Sonia. Her hair is pitch-black and short, her deep dark eyes are full of affection as they glance over to the man who smiles a bit at her. 

"Medium-sized coffee for this guy," another pat to the arm, "cappuccino for both me and her." She's pretty, this person. Sonia nods brightly, taps the orders into the till before turning around and starting to make the orders. It's right at that moment that Griffith decides to appear, his flowy locks in a high ponytail and eyes inhumanly bright. 

"Sonia," he says softly by the way of greeting as he steps behind the counter. He nods to the new customers, ignoring their raised eyebrows and the way the dark-haired woman clutches the beast-boy's arm a little tighter. There is recognizition there, perhaps a history Sonia isn't aware of. She keeps her thoughts to herself, hands swift as she pushes the mugs towards the customers. They pay and they go, but the two in the front (the blonde lady is now tapping at her cellphone, frown marring her delicate features) do glance back. 

Since there is no one else closeby, Sonia crosses her arms.

"Griffith," she says. Griffith offers an angelic smile. 

"Sonia," he says again. She is always the only one not affected by that purr he uses, the flicker of long feminine eyelashes. 

"You know those guys, don't you?" It's not unheard of, of course. Sonia knows Griffith used to live in this city a few years ago before moving out for some private reason that he refuses to share. 

"I might," Griffith says and puts on his apron. The beast-boy glares from the other table, confusion in his gaze and perhaps misplaced anger. Sonia glances at him swiftly before raising her eyebrows at Griffith. Who, yet again, floats by like he mortal world meant nothing. He dodges Sonia's questions but not the table where the three strangers are sitting. The evening settles behind the windows but Griffith seems to glow as he flirts horribly with the few customers that still slip by. Only when it's an hour until closing time and the three strangers at the table have become two (the blonde lady that Sonia had taken a liking to had gone, apologizing quietly to her companions and meeting a blonde boy just outside the doors, obviously a sibling) that they speak.

"Hey, Griffith!" It's the gruff boy (or a man, he seems stuck in between the two, tall like a mountain but with a thin mouth and a stubborn gaze that says miles about his personality) that speaks. His voice rumbles, more than fitting for his huge frame. Griffith slithers to them, a snake in the evening.

"You know, it's considered bad manners to ignore your ex," it's the woman who speaks (more woman than a mere girl, her figure slender and mature fire burning under her skin). The words ring slightly bitter, but she has a half-smile on her face. Griffith comes to them and leans; Sonia is very discreetly not eavesdropping, instead conversing with Charlotte in hushed tones.

"I'm not ignoring you,  Casca," Griffith huffs. "I was merely surprised by your appearance. I did not think you would still live in here." There is history there, behind every word and every gaze. Casca huffs, pout marring her face for a moment. 

"Don't act coy, Griffith." Her dark skin thankfully hides the flush that threatens to return. She has not seen Griffith since he saved her when they were mere teenagers. 

"And we didn't actually date, did we now?" Griffith continues, putting all the force of his piercing stare on the other man instead. 

"Griffith," the man growls. He taps his fingers on the table, ignoring the remains of his second coffee. Up close now, what reasons he had for the earlier irritation and confusion, it seems hard to keep them. Especially when Griffith keeps staring, reaching to grab a large hand and giving it a pat. 

"Guts," he says almost sweetly. "What happened, happened." Griffith's tongue swipes over his lips as he straightens. "Do come by again. You make a dashing couple." He has a rather fearsome smirk on his face as he turns and leaves the two fuming. 

* 

As it turns out, those people do return to the café a few days later. Sonia finds out that the beastly man is named Guts, a part-timer bouncer at the popular Eclipse-club, owner of a rowdy motorcycle and a student of Latin and other dead languages; also apparently a former friend of Griffith's, a deeply hurt look on his face each time he glances at the café-owner. The woman, Casca is a girlfriend and a conflicted and a conflicting person, a fencing-champion and the owner of a beautiful pale stallion named Judeau. Their history, whatever it is; friendship, love; with Griffith makes them come back again and again but never quite resolving whatever it is. Griffith doesn't reveal any of it, saying it's no business of anyone's but theirs even when he never shares another word with the two. 

**Author's Note:**

> lmao this became so much more serious than intended. So tl;dr the three of them have history but what kind mmMMm. To be continued one day maybe.


End file.
